Page 101 of Love Is Ale You Need

The young woman with black swooping bangs types away on the keyboard, but I don’t wait. This can’t wait. By the time she answers me, I’m a quarter of the way to the elevator.

“Do you want me to buzz him down?” she yells to my back.

I throw a hand up, waving her off. “No worries. I know which office is his.”

I waddle to the elevators and press the button for the third floor. Exhaling a breath, I’m thankful I don’t have to deal with stairs. When I reach his door, I half ass knock before I’m pushing through.

Trey jumps to his feet and steps out from behind his desk, concern etched on his forehead. “Rye, what are you doing here? Is everything okay? Is it our acorn?”

I pull out the piece of paper and slam it on his desk. “What is this?”

He glances down and his fingers run along the worn paper. Slowly, he lifts his head, his gaze meeting mine. “That’s the paper ring I gave you.”

“No. The words. Did you mean them? Even all those months ago?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m pretty sure I’ve known that’s how I felt since I watched you man handle the guy at Porter’s.”

I step close and grip his tie and yank him to me, crashing my lips to his in a searing kiss. He clasps my cheeks, holding me to him as our lips press and move against each other’s. I pull away but keep my lips centimeters from his. “I want to be your forever. You’re my forever. You’re Abby’s forever. Acorn’s forever.” I kiss him. “You’re my absolute favorite.” Another kiss. “I want to be struck by lightning. Metaphorically, not literally, and you do that. With you it’s like I’m stranded in the middle of a lightning storm.”

He pulls me to his chest and places a chaste kiss on my lips. “You’re my absolute favorite. That’s four words.” He winks.

A laugh bursts out of me. “Fine. How about this? I love you.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners as a grin splits his face. “I love you. And Abby. And our little Acorn.” He kisses me again. “I can take the afternoon off and show you exactly how much I love you.” His lips brush over my cheek and down my jaw line.

I can’t help the moan that escapes me. “As much as I want to do that. I can’t. I left the movers alone at my apartment and my car might get towed.”

“Where did you park?”

“On the street. But I put my flashers on. The parking lot is way too far away for me to waddle across. They really should have pregnant parking.”

A laugh drifts from his throat. “I’ll be sure to mention that at our next board meeting.” His thumb brushes over my cheek. “But tonight. In our home. In our bed. You’re all mine.”

When he says things like that, I have the urge to say to hell with it. The movers can manage. I can collect my car from the impound lot. But I digress. “Promise?”

“Only if you don’t fall asleep mid lick.” His eyebrows lift.

Laughter erupts from me. “That was one time, and I was exhausted.”

“You’re always good at keeping my ego in check.” He spins me around and playfully smacks my ass. “Go finish bossing around the movers so you can officially be moved in.”

I flash him a flirty smile over my shoulder as I leave his office.

* * *

The next day, I wake up to a buzzing from my phone with another ominous message from Jake requesting to meet him at Porter’s a little early, if possible. Today is my last day at work until I start my maternity leave and two weeks until the baby is due. And I am ready. After a six-year break, I forgot how different life is when you’re the size of a hot-air balloon.

When I pull in, the parking lot is empty except for Jake’s truck. I park next to it and weeble-wobble my way inside. The outside light from the door draws Jake’s attention from behind the bar. He sets the glass bottle down in the empty row behind the others.

“Hey Rylee. Take a seat.” He points to a smaller table against the wall. He steps out from behind the bar and takes a seat across from me. “First off, you’re not working today.”

My eyebrows knit together. “Why?”

“I’m giving you the day off. You can start your maternity leave early. But I called you in to let you know they caught the person who broke in.”

“Who was it?”

“Chad.”

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